


Cupcake

by CalsLaundry



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Flirting, Mild Innuendo, Other, hand holding, tooth rotting sweet fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29677425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalsLaundry/pseuds/CalsLaundry
Summary: You run your own little café in Twilight Town and your favourite customer is a mystery. But that can be solved with his favourite sweet treat.
Relationships: Xigbar (Kingdom Hearts)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Cupcake

**Author's Note:**

> Who's surprised that this is Kingdom Hearts after all my screaming about it on Twitter? It's more surprising I actually wrote a G rated fic for once.   
> No cupcakes for catching the reference, but do treat yourself to one for it.

The familiar, never ending twilight sky - inky black and citrus orange – hangs overhead, but your internal clock knows that your favourite stranger is early. He sees the question in your eyes before you can say a word.

“Can't I come see my favourite cupcake before work?”

You roll your eyes but he just smiles, smug and shit eating as always.

“It's too early for your usual.”

“I bet you're just as sweet, babydoll,” you roll your eyes again and hand him a coffee across the counter, “gonna let me find out?”

“If you can go one day without innuendo, I just might.”

“Nah, that's too tall an order. Besides I know you love it,” he takes a sip and moans at the taste. You busy yourself with the display as he leans on the counter. Your café is empty, though it won't stay that way for long. But in those first few hours, you're rarely gifted with company. And your stranger usually shows up closer to afternoon. You look over him for what you're sure is the thousandth time. You know all the details by heart, though sleep tints his features. His long, salt and pepper ponytail is neat as always, but under his one visible golden eye, there's a hint of fatigue. The other, covered by an eyepatch, surely matches.

“What has you here so early?”

He glances up at you as you take your place across the counter from him, your own coffee in hand.

“Told ya already.”

“Honey,” you don't miss the twitch in his lips at the pet name, “I'm sure it works on everyone else,” you mirror his stance – elbows on the counter and cup in hand – and you're close enough to catch the scent of spice and gun powder, “but you're a terrible liar.”

“And you, sweetheart,” you bite your tongue to hide your smile; it's hardly the first time he's called you that, “are paranoid. Maybe I just wanted to start my day with the best view possible.”

“Hmm, or maybe” you let your voice drop to a murmur as you lean in closer, nose almost against his, and catch his gaze. You'll pretend your heart doesn't flutter at heat from his skin or the smell of him. You press your index finger to his chin and in the same hushed tone, you speak again;

“You're just dodging the boss.”

Then, with a quick smirk, you squeeze his cheeks until his lips squish and recoil before he can retaliate. But of course, he just barks a laugh.

“You're cuter in the morning." 

“Awh, you think I'm cute?” your joke barely hides the delight in your voice.

“You know you are,” he stands back to his full height with his empty coffee cup on the counter between you, “I'll tell ya again later if you don't believe me.”

“I look forward to it.”

And with a wink(you think), he's gone, and you're left with no proof of him but the spice in the air and the pitter patter of infatuation in your chest.

He returns at his usual time, brighter and even more delighted to see his favourite treat is ready. You cast a smile towards the door and as he reaches the counter, you place a coffee and a plate up front. You don't remember the first time he ordered the cute little cream and strawberry cupcake, but you do remember when it became his usual. You can't deny there's something adorable about a man like him having such a sweet favourite. All dressed in black leather, he's intimidating. Well, not to you, not any more. It doesn't stop you thinking he's adorable with a little pastel cupcake in hand.

“You're an angel. Been looking forward to this all day,” he checks behind him, and at the realisation that no one is queuing, he leans on the counter as he had this morning. Again, you mirror him.

“Should have had breakfast then.”

“I was a little distracted,” he flashes his usual smirk, but his face changes in a short moment, and he glances towards the door. Outside stands another man, dressed much the same, though his hair is short and blonde, and everything about him, including his goatee, is so nearly tended. He quirks a brow at your friend, whose face has settled into nothing short of a glower.

“Afraid I can't stick around long today, babydoll, duty calls,” he trains his face back to that grin but you can see he's unimpressed. You pack away the little cupcake in a box (and when he looks away, you sneak in a few little chocolates) and he drains his coffee.

“Don't work too hard, honey,” you smile, soft and far too sweet, as you hand him the box.

“Never do,” and he's gone again. Embarrassment prickles through you; you don't know him, why are you so eager for him to stay a little longer? The question plagues you.

And it doesn't stop when the next day is one without him.

Now, it's a mixture of embarrassment and regret. Were the chocolates the step too far?  
How is _that_ the step too far with the things he's said to you?  
Clearly he was just trying to be friendly and you ruined it.

The thoughts mirror Twilight Town's tram; looping and constant.

You lock the door after a long day, the longest in a while. The town is down to the last dregs of people. Lone wanderers and pairs alike drift through the street- unhurried, unbothered, bathed in the eternal twilight, and all of them are ethereal in it.  
For a flash of a romantic moment, your mind lands on him, your stranger, as he stands beside you and takes your hand as you walk home. It's too soft for whatever life he leads outside of the moments you share in your own little world, but it can't hurt to pretend for a moment that in some other life, he's more than a stranger.

“Penny for your thoughts, cupcake?”

You flinch and halt, but as if he stepped from your own little daydream, your stranger is there.

“I expect a little more than a penny.”

He laughs and steps closer, until he's in front of you and towering over you as always.

“You heading home?”

“Yeah, are you going the same way?”

He smiles, “I can.”

He falls into step beside you and there's a familiarity to it. You can't stop your curiosity, and you nudge him gently.

“Got another baker, huh?”

He raises a brow then realises what you're asking.

He nudges back, “Why? You jealous?”

“No!” you hide your blush by reaching into your bag, “but y'know if you've got another baker, you won't need _this_ _.”_

You hold up the small box and his smile spreads further.

“Sweetheart, you know how to treat a man,” he reaches for it but you pull the box away and smile.

“Nah, if you've got another baker, I can find another handsome stranger to bring cupcakes to.”

He casts an arm around your shoulder and leans in close to speak so close .

“Awh, you think I'm handsome?”

“You know you are.”

You stop walking and he does too, his arm still around your shoulders. You turn until you're facing his chest and his fingertips play at the top of your spine. The silence is comfortable, but the weight to it isn't.

“You never told me your name.”

“They call me Xigbar, but whatever suits you. I was startin' to like “honey” an awful lot.”

He leans a little closer, and there in that enclosed space, you find the scent you'd wished for.

“I missed you today.”

“Missed you too, babydoll. Can't put ya first all the time I'm afraid.”

“Pity; it might get you some good favour cupcake wise.”

“Oh yeah? Somethin' sweet and special just for me, huh?” his fingers move from your spine and they leave a tingling trail as they do. But when he cups your cheek, the loss is forgiven.

“Yeah.”

You can't manage anymore than a breath of the word.

“You sure it's just for me?” he leans a little closer, his lips a hair's breadth from yours, “I don't share, sweetheart.”

“Yeah.”

Twilight, tram, the entire world seeps away, utterly lost when he finally closes the gap and kisses you more softly than you thought possible for him. It's chaste and sweet and even when his free hand holds your waist, it's with such care that you barely feel it. But like those sweet treats, it doesn't last nearly long enough.

“Let's get you home,” he mumurs against your lips before a quick press of them and he stands back to his full height. His arm falls from your shoulders and you point the way with a quick gesture. For a beat, that silence returns. The boxed cupcake is forgotten it seems, even when you bridge the tiny gap between you two to entwine your fingers with his. He doesn't hide his victorious smile, though when he speaks it's a surprise.

“Never thought it'd be that easy.”

You laugh.

“Thin ice, Xigbar.”

He holds his hand over his chest in mock hurt.

“ _Ouch_ , already we're dropping the “honey”?”

“Be nice and it comes back.”

“Oh you're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.”

Your front door comes into view too quickly.  
He doesn't make an attempt to enter; somehow, he's an actual gentleman behind it all.

“Promise I'll see you tomorrow. No repeats of today. Not without warning at least.”

“Thank you,” you step up onto the small stoop outside your door and kiss his cheek, “you make the days a little better, y'know.”

“As if; you're the one doin' that, babydoll, and I promise, I'll be sure to keep reminding you of it.”

Another kiss, this time to the corner of his mouth and he smiles.

“What, I keep talkin' and I keep getting kisses? That's enough to keep me here all night.”

“I know it is,” you kiss the same spot, but you pull back before he steals one of his own, “ _but_ you've got a little something to do, right?”

He quirks a brow.

“I've coffee here, but if you wanna take it home.”

You leave the rest unfinished as you hold the box up to him. He takes the box as he steals a kiss and for a moment, you think he's going to leave. He smirks down at you, plants a hand beside the door and leans in close enough for you to kiss again if you wanted. The fear of rejection creeps into your stomach.

“Then let me in, sweetheart. I don't have a key. Not yet.”

It's a flustered set of events to get inside, but as the coffee brews, Xigbar sits at your table as if he's done it a million times before. He looks right here, like he belongs. You push out the images that sneak into your mind, the ones that get you ahead of yourself, the ones that have him calling this place home too. You turn away, embarrassed and flustered by your own imagination. But there's the scrape of a chair and he's behind you, his chest to your back, his hands on your waist, and his lips to your cheek when he leans down.

“So cupcake, how was your day?”


End file.
